


A Clarkmas Carol

by Lenore



Category: Smallville
Genre: Holidays, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark has a plan for ending the rift, even if he doesn’t exactly have a clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clarkmas Carol

Clark stood beside Lex's bed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, not quite sure how to proceed. Should he try clearing his throat? Or just cut right to the chase and shake Lex awake? In the midst of this dithering, Lex cracked one eye open, and Clark startled so badly he knocked into the fancy armoire behind him, nearly sending it toppling over.

"You're awake," he said lamely.

"I am _now_ ," Lex replied dryly.

Clark untangled himself from the furniture and stood up straight and gathered his determination. "I'm here because I want you to see the error of your ways."

Lex sighed. "Don't you denizens of the spirit world ever just give up and move onto the next reprobate? Because I can promise you that you're not going to be any more successful now than years past. Also, it's a bit gauche, don’t you think, to show up looking like Clark? What are you supposed to be? The ghost of disappointments past?'

Clark blinked, more than one step behind. "What?"

Lex kicked off the covers. "Fine, fine, let's get on with it. Show me all the warm, wholesome everyman happiness I'm missing out on, so I can go back to sleep. I did just get off a plane from Tokyo. Or do you think I go to bed at eight-thirty every night?"

"Um, no, I don't think—" Clark tried not to stare unduly at Lex in his black silk pajamas.

Lex looked him up and down appraisingly. "I will give you this—you've captured Clark's overgrown schoolboy look perfectly."

"Thanks—hey!" Clark glared.

Lex smiled. "Shall we?"

Clark stumbled forward, not at all sure what he was going to do now that this confrontation-possibly-reconciliation plan of his had taken an unexpected Scroogian turn. Maybe they could just fly around for a while until he thought of something. He wrapped an arm around Lex's waist and threw open the window and took off into the night.

Lex curled into him, and it was strangely distracting, even more so when Lex started…well, it seemed like he was sniffing Clark's neck. "You're a lot better at generating heat than last year's this-is-your-life tour guide," Lex informed him. "And you smell better, too. I heartily approve of the upgrade."

"Uh—thanks?" Clark was beginning to think there was going to be a question mark at the end of every sentence he uttered tonight.

Lex laughed. "You make me almost miss his stammering. So, where's our first stop? Are you going to show me the love of a good woman that I could have had if I hadn't been so focused on filthy lucre?"

"Uh—sure. Let's do that."

He veered to the south, headed out to the suburbs, and landed on the roof of the house belonging to Lana and her new husband, a doctor she'd met on the singles cruise she took after things hadn't worked out with Lex…or Clark, for that matter.

"Okay, it would be good if you could, you know, try to keep it down," Clark said, with a finger held up to his lips.

"I thought they couldn't see or hear us?" Lex raised an eyebrow. "That's what all the other spirits said."

"Um—" If Clark could have broken into a sweat, he surely would have then. "Well, we don't want to miss hearing anything they say, right?"

Lex seemed mostly mollified by this, and Clark took his hand and stepped off the roof, and they floated down to the living room window and hovered there, concealed by the branches of some rather scraggly boxwoods.

Inside were Lana and her proctologist husband Phil, cuddled together on the sofa in front of the fire, the room festively decked out with boughs of greenery and red velvet bows, the Christmas tree cheerfully twinkling. Lana and Phil made a toast, "to us," and then they exchanged their gifts.

Phil the proctologist went first. "Oh, look. A framed picture of you. Wasn't that…thoughtful, sweetpea." He put on a bright, not entirely convincing smile.

Lana beamed. "I knew you'd want it for your desk at the office." She took a big, anticipatory breath, eyes bright with excitement. "Okay. My turn."

She tore into the package, and her smile instantly deflated.

Phil shifted uneasily. "Don't you like it?"

Lana lifted the necklace out of the box, letting it dangle indifferently from one finger. "Oh, no, it’s not that." This was even less convincing than Phil's reception of his gift.

"Now, sweetpea," Phil said in a tone more suited to addressing a small child, "you have to tell me if something's not right."

"Well…" She laid her head on his shoulder and batted her eyes at him. "It's just…the stones are kind of small, and I was hoping for diamonds."

Lex smirked at Clark. "You're right. I'm really sorry I gave up my chance at _that_ so I could pursue more materialistic interests."

Lana looked around, frowning. "Did you hear something, honey?"

Clark grabbed hold of Lex and took off like a shot, and when they'd reached a comfortable cruising altitude, he explained rather lamely, "Um—I just thought we'd seen enough."

"Truer words never spoken." Lex met his gaze speculatively. "What now? A trip to dear old dad's to remind me of the family I could be spending the holidays with if I'd just extend the proverbial olive branch?"

"Sure. We can do that." Clark let of his breath in relief. It was a lucky stroke that Lex was doing all the thinking for him.

He took off to the LuthorCorp Towers East where Lionel and Clark's mom had lived since they got married. He hovered outside the balcony, but there was no sign of anyone inside.

"Try the windows around the other side," Lex suggested.

Clark floated them over there and promptly got an eyeful, Lex's dad and his mother in their bedroom, Martha in nothing but black lace lingerie, heels and a strap-on, a riding crop in hand, Lionel in nothing at all, on his hands and knees down on the floor, declaring he'd been a naughty boy who deserved to be punished.

"Mom!" Clark yelled in horror and then quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

The penthouse was soundproofed, though, and Martha and Lionel continued on with their games undisturbed. Clark jetted away as fast as he could without giving Lex windburn, and even once they were on the other side of town, he didn't feel it was nearly far enough.

"My father's sexual escapades disturb even the spirits. Why am I not surprised?" Lex said with amusement. "So, are we finished yet?"

"Um—" It was hard for Clark to focus when he had a picture of his mother the dominatrix blazed onto his retinas.

"I supposed you'll want to take a tour of town looking for random good deeds as proof that there's more to this holiday than gift cards from Target?"

"Okay. Whatever." Clark started to descend. He was still seriously disturbed.

He kept at a safe distance and scanned the streets and at last saw something worthy of showing Lex. He found a discreet place to land and led Lex around the corner and pointed. "There. What do you say to that?"

A man dressed as Santa was walking down the street, bulging bag of booty tossed over his shoulder. Every time he encountered a passerby, he pulled a wrapped gift from his bag and hand it over with a jolly, "Merry Christmas!" As they were watching, though, a gang of teenagers with bats in hand, wearing leather jackets and bandanas started to converge on the Kringlesque do-gooder.

"No noble deed goes unpunished, apparently," Lex said, as the teenagers set on St. Nick.

Clark hustled Lex back around the corner. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

It didn't take long to break it up, but the Santa wannabe seemed rather dispirited. "These streets get meaner every year. Maybe I'd better call it a night."

Lex was overflowing with smugness by the time Clark got back. "Any more inspiring scenes like that to show me? Or can we call it a night?"

Clark hung his head in defeat. "I'll drop you home."

He gathered up Lex in his arms and tried to ignore how nice it felt and how good Lex smelled. This had been a stupid idea to begin with. There was no fixing the train wreck that was their past. He returned Lex to his bedroom and was heading to the window when Lex said, "You didn't take me to Clark's. Is that because it's just too utterly hopeless?"

Clark whirled around. "No! I just didn't think you'd listen."

The expression in Lex's eyes sharpened. "I'm listening now."

"Did you ever think that maybe I—um, _Clark_ was sorry for a lot of things and just didn't know how to say it? That he wishes things could be different? That he wishes he'd met you when he was older and wasn't so afraid of—" He stared down at the carpet, heat suddenly stinging his cheeks.

Lex took a step closer. "What would be different now? What wouldn't Clark be afraid to show me?"

All Clark could do was stare helplessly, still not sure how to say it.

"Why don't _you_ show me?" Lex ran a hand up Clark's chest. "You look like him. Be his intermediary. Do all the things Clark wishes he could to make it better between us."

This was all the invitation Clark needed. He hooked an arm around Lex's waist and pulled him hard against his body. Years of frustrated longing and denial and tormented hope poured into the kiss. Lex's fingers dug into his shoulders, and he kissed back with almost angry ferocity, and Clark slipped a hand under his pajama top, stroked Lex's back. It felt good to have heat between them again, even if it was partially fueled by fury.

"What else, what else?" Lex murmured. "What else does Clark wish he could do?"

Clark pulled at Lex's pajama top and sent it flying, pushed the bottoms down over his hips, and kissed his way down to his body. He settled on his knees and didn't pause or draw things out, because he'd already waited forever. He went right to it, took Lex's cock in his mouth and started to lick and suck, rubbing his thumb in circles over Lex's thigh.

Lex twisted his fingers in Clark's hair. "Take it. Take my cock." Lex's sex talk got progressively raunchier after that and was downright obscene by the time his back arched sharply and he came in Clark's mouth.

Clark had never been so turned on in his life.

Lex caught his breath, and then slipped into bed, and for one plummeting moment, Clark thought that was it, he was being dismissed.

But then Lex smiled, one of _those_ smiles that Clark hadn't seen for a long, long time. "Is there anything else Clark wishes he could do to me?" He laid back and parted his legs invitingly, and Clark superspeeded out of his jeans and onto Lex.

He fucked Lex twice that night, and wanted to blow him again, only Lex moaned for mercy, "As much as I hate to pass up the profane perfection that is your mouth, I honestly don't think I can get it up again." He burrowed closer. "Sleep?"

Clark smoothed a hand over Lex's head. "Yeah. Okay. Just—" His conscience always ruined everything. "Don't be mad, but I'm not a spirit."

Lex smiled sleepily, his eyes already closed. "Don't be mad, Clark, but there's no such thing as spirits."


End file.
